


in which Akira makes the first move, kinda, but by accident

by tamarussia



Category: NG (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pining, akira is slow to realize as usual, amanomes got it bad, it was a huge headache to write in the whole kakuya thing so i highkey pretend it didnt happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22252621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamarussia/pseuds/tamarussia
Summary: Pining over your childhood friend is easy, right? You just ignore all your feelings, keep them inside, and then you die. Luckily for Amanome, Akira does the work for him.Slighly canon divergent as I briefly pretended Kakuya didn't happen. No spoilers for the game.
Relationships: Amanome Seiji/Kijima Akira
Comments: 10
Kudos: 98





	in which Akira makes the first move, kinda, but by accident

When Amanome first figured out he might’ve liked Akira more than he rightfully should, it was in their first year of junior high. Living under the influence of his family name, Amanome was no stranger to the hazards it tended to bring upon him. He was twelve when he was first properly kidnapped; he and Akira had been walking to a nearby convenience store after school when they’d been simply snatched off the street by a rival gang leader, like they were a part of those exaggerated stories mothers told their kids to scare them into coming home on time. They’d been manhandled into some unmarked van, had their limbs zip-tied together, and been driven to a warehouse. _What a cliché,_ Amanome had thought darkly.

The leader, a heavier-set man laden with piercings, had wanted notoriety – to expand his reach and strike fear in the neighboring gangs.

“And what’s a better way, “ the man had sneered at him, making a show of flicking open the knife in his hand, “than fucking up Amanome’s boy?”

“So, what, you’re like a kid diddler or something?” Amanome had responded, trying to hide his flinch at seeing the knife. That earned him a hard cuff to the jaw. He felt his lip split.

“Amanome!” Akira had shouted. He squirmed against their bindings. “Don’t fucking touch him!” he snarled. The man gave him a swift kick in the gut. Akira’s grunt of pain made Amanome’s heart pound.

“Hey, how about you tell your little guard dog here to shut it before I cut his tongue out,” he said. Amanome’s blood turned to ice. The man gave Akira another swift kick, earning a groan and labored wheezing. He bent down to press his knife against Akira’s throat. “Or maybe I’ll just do it now and save us the trouble,” he grinned. The knife and his piercings shone in the dull light of the warehouse. He opened his mouth to say something more but was interrupted by a lackey.

“Sir, we got Taizou on the line. He’s open to negotiating,” the lackey reported, holding out a cell phone.

Amanome huffed at them and willed his next words to be steady. “My dad doesn’t do negotiations, numb nuts. You guys aren’t getting a cent.” He licked his lips and tasted iron. He briefly offered up a prayer to any god who was listening that his dad had already figured out what was happening and _hurried the fuck up._ The leader didn’t rise to the bait.

“Well, then, this will be a quick phone call now, won’t it?” He smiled, then turned and stepped away with his goon, pocketing his knife.

As soon as he was far enough away, Amanome shuffled closer to Akira, who had curled in on himself.

“Are you okay?” he whispered as low as he could. Akira grunted.

“Fantastic,” he whispered back, a little strained. “Think he got me in the ribs.”

“We’ll deal with that later. Come here,” Amanome said. Akira hesitated. “Quickly, dickhead, I have a knife in my pocket. Back left.”

“You _what?_ ” Akira said incredulously, but did as he was told, shuffling along the cold warehouse floor to get close to Amanome. With a little bit of maneuvering, Akira strained against the ties to fish the butterfly knife from Amanome’s uniform pocket. He quickly got to work on cutting himself loose.

At the sound of Akira slicing through the ties on his feet, the goon spun around. “Hey -!” he started to shout, but he was too late.

Quick as a flash, Akira leapt up and flew toward him, driving the knife in as hard as he could into the man’s torso. He choked on a breath and stumbled, but Akira had already switched targets. The leader was only slightly faster on the uptake.

“You little shit!” he roared, dropping the phone in his hand to fumble for his weapon. Akira didn’t give him the chance and stabbed him in the gut, then yanked the knife out and stabbed him again and again. The man gurgled and fell to his knees, but Akira continued to attack him. He stabbed him three more times – twice in the neck and once in the shoulder – blood running over his hands. It was like watching a rabid animal.

“Akira!” Amanome suddenly shouted. Akira jolted like he’d been shocked and whipped his head to look at Amanome, eyes wide as if he’d forgotten he was there. Akira was covered in blood, and his dark eyes held a wild look in them. Amanome felt pinned to the ground.

“C-come cut me loose, idiot,” he said meanly, swallowing hard at the stare Akira gave him. _“Akira,_ ” he said again, and at that Akira seemed to snap out of it. He scrambled over to quickly snip Amanome free.

“You good?” he asked, giving Amanome a once over as he cut the ties. Amanome absentmindedly licked his lip again.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks,” he replied. Akira eyed him for a little and then nodded, plopping down next to him as if he’d lost all his energy. They both fell silent.

Amanome’s father and his gang came soon after – Amanome doesn’t remember much after that. With the adrenaline wearing off, he had started to become fatigued. He remembered him and Akira being ushered into his father’s car. The adults were chattering lowly back and forth, so low he couldn’t catch what was being said. He remembered shivering, and Akira moving to sit close to him and grabbing his hand, still sticky with blood. He hadn’t said anything, but simply looked at Amanome, eyes sharp and bright.

And looking back at him, Amanome remembered thinking, ‘ _I’m so fucking screwed.’_

* * *

The second time was a few years later, when they were 15. Akira made it a point to never talk about his mother or his home life more than he explicitly needed to. But Amanome knew how to read between the lines; there were some days where Akira brought nothing to eat for lunch; he often wore the same set of uniform, his shirts fraying at the hems; sometimes, he would miss class for days at a time, his only explanation being, “My mom’s sick.”

Amanome wanted to help but learned quickly that giving direct help just made Akira upset.

“I’m already handling it,” Akira would say angrily. “I don’t need your fucking handouts.”

So Amanome figured out more subtle ways to help Akira out where he could. Akira, god bless him, wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, so lying to him about certain things was easy.

“Hey, Akira,” Amanome started one day during lunch time, “do you want the rest of my bento? My dad gave me way too much food, there’s no way I’m eating all of this.” He slid his box across the table to Akira.

Akira eyed the food, then Amanome, seemingly suspicious. “You sure you don’t want it?” he asked. Amanome shook his head.

“Nah, I’m not gonna eat it,” he said. Akira didn’t need to be told twice, taking Amanome’s chopsticks to promptly dig in. “Jeez, buddy, no need to eat like a pig,” Amanome jabbed at him, smiling cruelly. Akira only glared back and gave him the finger, but continued to focus on eating.

Amanome wasn’t one to lament on his feelings, but his chest grew a bit tight at the sight of his friend gulping down the simple meal of fried pork cutlet, rice, and vegetables as if he wasn’t sure when he was going to the chance to eat again. Akira caught him staring.

“What are you looking at, jackass?” Akira snapped.

“Just wondering when my good buddy became a caveman. Or have you always been like that?” Amanome responded, though there was no real heat behind his words. Akira shoved a hand in his face. “Alright, alright, sorry, you brute,” Amanome laughed. The places where Akira touched him felt like they were searing hot.

At home that evening, Amanome made sure to ask his father to pack more food for him at lunch moving forward. When asked why, he thought of Akira.

“Just hungrier, I guess,” he replied.

* * *

At 17, Akira was already a staple at the UG Matches. He was the undefeated reigning champion – no matter who got into the ring with him, big, small, armed or not, Akira always came out on top.

Tonight’s match was no different: Akira’s opponent had to have at least 60 or so pounds over him, and was nearly twice his width; some overgrown steroid monster. Akira hadn’t even blinked at his size.

Amanome made it a point to attend every match. The lie he told Akira was, “To make sure my investment doesn’t go to shit,” but the real reason was that watching Akira put some guy in the dirt was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

Akira became almost demonic during fights – Amanome watched the way his mind seemed to hyperfocus on his opponent, and his body worked on instinct. He moved like water, smooth and strong, dodging and weaving effortlessly while retaliating with vicious attacks, and Amanome couldn’t help but be entranced.

Akira’s opponent swung a large, meaty fist towards his head, but Akira sidestepped it at the last moment, grabbing his arm and using the guy’s momentum to bodily flip him over his shoulder. The man hit the ground _hard_ , a groan of pain escaping him. The crowd _Ooh!_ ’d at the impact. Akira didn’t give him the chance to recover, quickly rearranging them both to wrench the man’s arm behind him at a vicious angle, Akira’s legs tight around his neck to put him into a quick chokehold.

“Tap out,” Akira ordered. The man spat at him.

“Fuck you,” he gritted out, then yelled out in pain as Akira twisted his arm further.

“Tap. Out.” Akira repeated. “Or I’m breaking your arm.” The man blanched but refused to budge.

“Piss off, kid!” he yelled, then attempted a hard buck to throw Akira off his back. Akira’s grip slipped slightly, and the man bucked again. Akira almost slipped off, but his grip held true, and with a sickening _snap_ he violently shattered the man’s arm.

The crowd went berserk – their shouts of excitement nearly drowned out the man’s scream of agony. Akira let him go and he scrambled away. In the chaos, Akira leveled a dark look at Amanome.

Once again, Amanome felt pinned where he stood. He greedily drank in the sight of his friend: he was heaving from the effort of the fight, sweat pouring down his body. He clenched his fists and Amanome stared as his muscles jumped with the movement.

“Amanome.”

“Huh?” Amanome blinked. He’d been so zoned out he hadn’t noticed Akira had come over and was now standing in front of him. Amanome recovered quick and smiled slyly.

“Well, well, great work as always, buddy,” he said. “Always knew a mindless beast like yourself wouldn’t let me down.” Akira simply snorted in response and held out a wad of crumpled up bills.

“Here’s your cut,” he said bluntly. Amanome waved him off.

“Nah, keep it. We’re going out to eat. My treat,” he said. Akira shrugged and pocketed the cash. Amanome grabbed his wrist and started walking. “Hurry up, they close soon,” he said by way of explanation.

Akira said nothing as he let Amanome lead him through back alleys towards the restaurant. Amanome prayed Akira couldn’t feel his heart beating through the leather of his gloves.

* * *

So, when the kiss finally did happen, it kind of pissed Amanome off that it had been an accident, at first.

They – Akira and Amanome – were at the Black Rabbit helping Ami with her homework in place of Miss Natsumi, who had gone out for a bit to run errands. ‘They’ really meant ‘just Amanome’ helping, as Akira took one look at Ami’s math homework and wordlessly slid the paper over to Amanome.

“Seiji, could you check this last question please? I don’t know if I did it right,” Ami asks, pointing to the question at the bottom of her page. Amanome takes a quick look and smiles at Ami.

“Hey, nice job! This is perfect,” he says. Ami grins back and claps her hands.

“Yes!” she exclaims in relief, and starts to put away her work. “Thank you, Seiji!” Amanome shrugs.

“It’s no problem. It’s not as if your airhead big brother over there could help,” he replied, smiling wickedly in Akira’s direction. Akira flips him off.

“Mom said that’s rude to do, big brother!” Ami chastises him, and Akira has the decency to look at least a little sheepish. As if on cue, Natsumi comes in through the door, keys jingling in her hand. Ami leaps up.

“Mom’s back!” she says excitedly, and rushes to give Natsumi a hug. “Seiji helped me with my homework!”

“Did he, now?” Miss Natsumi says, returning the hug. She smiles warmly at Amanome and Akira. “Thank you, boys, for watching Ami for a little while. I’m very grateful.”

“Oh, absolutely, Miss Natsumi. I could never turn down the request of such a beautiful lady such as yourself,” Amanome says, laying on the suave as thick as he could, making a point to stand right next to his best friend. “And might I add, you look _exceptionally_ elegant today.” Amanome could basically hear Akira rolling his eyes into his skull.

“My, what a little charmer you are,” Natsumi replies simply. She turns her attention back to Ami. “We have to go home now, yes?” Ami deflates a little at her words.

“Okay…” she says. She runs back over to Amanome to give him a quick hug. “Bye, Seiji!” Amanome gives her a quick squeeze. She then turns to Akira to give him a hug as well. “Later, big brother!” She looks up at him and puckers her lips.

Akira mumbles under his breath but gives her a quick peck. Ami gives them both one last wave before she and Natsumi are out the door.

Amanome sets to tease Akira immediately. He pretends to pout.

“What, no kiss for your very best buddy?” He starts to snicker at his own joke, but the sounds get lodged in his throat when Akira actually obliges his request, seemingly without thinking, and gives Amanome a quick kiss on the lips.

Amanome has two immediate realizations: firstly, that Akira’s lips were shockingly soft, and secondly, that he was in very, very, _very_ deep.

Akira rears back like he’d been shocked, eyes wide. Amanome would normally revel in the completely flabbergasted look etched into Akira’s face if he weren’t the center of it. Instead, he stood there and tried to remember what breathing was.

Akira sputters. “I – I didn’t – You were – “ He closes his mouth, opens it, hesitates, then closes it again. He frowns.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Akira says.

“Oh,” Amanome says lamely. They both sit in awkward silence.

It feels like hours past, and Amanome can no longer handle the atmosphere.

“I’m going home now,” Amanome suddenly says, then turns to leave the bar.

“Amanome, wait – “ Akira calls after him, but Amanome ignores him, going straight out the door without a backwards glance. Akira doesn’t follow.

Down the street, Amanome touches his lips and shudders.

* * *

The next time Amanome sees Akira is an entire three weeks later, back at the Black Rabbit. Akira had made himself scarce and hardly answered a call or text, and it is just as agonizingly awkward as Amanome thought it would be to make eye contact with him again. The scene is almost the same – Amanome’s there at the request of Miss Natsumi to help Ami with her schoolwork while she’s gone; Miss Natsumi arrives a short time later; she and Ami leave, and he and Akira are left alone in the bar. The silence that followed was somehow doubly suffocating as they look at each other. Amanome squirms where standing.

“Look, Akira,” he starts, “I hadn’t really meant –“

“Let me kiss you,” Akira interrupts.

“ – to say, wait, huh?” Amanome blinks. His train of thought screeches to a stop. “What?”

Akira hesitates. He clears his throat and repeats himself. “Let me kiss you.”

Amanome tries to calm the sudden thundering in his heart. He could swear Akira could hear it from where he was standing. He felt like his stomach was being twisted into pretzels.

“You...want to kiss me?” he asks weakly. Akira levels a look at him that reads, _and you call me the stupid one._

“I know you were joking when you asked me before,” Akira says. He steps towards him. “But I was thinking about it – “

“That’s news,” Amanome couldn’t help but quip in, nearly involuntary, but Akira shrugs off the comment and keeps talking.

“And I decided that I did want to kiss you. I _do_ want to kiss you, but…for real.” Here he looks uncertain. “I think I’ve wanted to for a while, so. Yeah.” Akira stops there. Amanome simply looks at him. Akira has the mind to wait. Amanome counts to 10, loses his place, then counts to 20 before going for it.

“Okay,” is what comes out of his mouth, and then Akira, steps forward, leans in, and kisses him.

Truthfully, what he really does is pushes his lips against Amanome’s without any sort of finesse, his inexperience woefully apparent. It lasts only a few short seconds before Akira is pulling away, but at the sight of him licking his lips on instinct, Amanome regains control of his limbs and takes control.

He grabs the back of Akira’s neck and pulls him back in. Akira’s lips are just as soft as they were the first time, and the thought drives him mad. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, stepping forward to press himself against Akira’s body. Akira catches on and tentatively brings his hands up to grab Amanome around the waist, pulling him in that much closer. Amanome gives a small groan that, and when Akira shyly moves his mouth against his, Amanome takes the chance to slip his tongue into Akira’s mouth. Akira tenses up slightly at that, but relaxes as he attempts to follow Amanome’s lead.

Amanome’s thoughts were in shambles – all he could focus on was the feel of Akira’s body against his, the weight of Akira’s hands on his hips, the slide of Akira’s tongue in his mouth. It was intoxicating, like sipping from the finest of wines, and god help him if Amanome wasn’t going to finally get his fill.

Akira was the one to regretfully break away, panting as he took in air. He lets slip a quiet, “ _Fuck._ ” 

The sight of him, lips wet from kissing and eyes half-lidded, cheeks ruddy from effort, was easily the second most erotic thing Amanome had ever seen.

Amanome chuckles and leans his forehead against Akira’s. “Buddy,” he huffs, equally as winded, “you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” The surprise in Akira’s face would be heartbreaking if it weren’t so goddamned funny.

“Really?” Akira asks in disbelief.

Amanome just chuckles more and grabs Akira’s hand. “Let’s go out to eat. My treat,” he says in lieu of a proper response.

At the small, genuine smile Akira gives him, Amanome laughs outright.

 _‘Yup,’_ he thinks, _‘I’m so fucking screwed.’_

**Author's Note:**

> hey this was supposed to be smut but i decided it didn't really fit in the fic the more i wrote it.
> 
> what this really means is that more smut is coming later. please tell me nice things :3c


End file.
